


tommy lee's adoption fees

by appetiteformotley



Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slow Burn, and tommy stays a drummer boy, except not that slow because im impatient, nikki works at a shelter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 19:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20533031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appetiteformotley/pseuds/appetiteformotley
Summary: rockstars have no time for pets in their busy, busy lives.nikki makes sure to get the point across when one decides to show up at his shelter, looking to adopt.





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> hello mc fandom!
> 
> in this particular au, nikki fled to l.a. but never got the chance to make it in a rock and roll band, because he doesn't know how to play the bass! he was homeless for a while before he scored a job at the local pet shelter, and the owner takes a liking to him. tommy ends up founding mötley crüe with vince and mick, and a filler character as the bassist. :)
> 
> this is my first submission here and i'm very excited, and a little nervous... so yeah! i don't want to give too much away about this story since it tells itself later, but i hope you enjoy this first bit! ♡♡♡

"Did you remember Missy's meds, doll?" Nikki's boss and favourite person in the world asks, keeping her eyes focused on the stack of papers and documents piled in front of her. Her hand scribbles away furiously, cursive scrawl filling up the lines with feminine penmanship. "I left them on the counter by the sink, in the back."

  
"I remembered, Donna," Nikki smiles apologetically as he approaches, delivers another couple of stapled packets to add to her growing collection. She glances at them and sighs witheringly, but her thin lips pull up into a tiny smile. "Anything else you needed me to do before I head out?"

"Well," Donna drawls, eyeing him with a playful glint in her tired, weary eyes. "I couldn't possibly hassle you to stick around and do _my_ pencil-pushing job... But if you want, I think you'd better go give Whiskey one last rub down for the day. He's been missing you terribly, you know."

  
Nikki laughs. "Such a needy little guy, isn't he?" He asks fondly, reaching for the right set of keys mounted above Donna's desk. It's a stretch, but he's _just_ tall enough to loop an index finger around the ring without toppling over; worn tape stickied to the side reading a barely-there '1026'. He stares down at it as it rests in his palm, and his smile falters. "It's a shame I can't take him home."  
  
Donna senses the wistfulness in his tone. "Don't look so down, honey, you know how it is with this sort of work. You'll find plenty of loves in your lifetime, trust me. It won't stop at Whiskey." Her eyes twinkle over the brim of her old-lady glasses. "Such is the life of an animal rescue volunteer, mm? Just want to adopt them all."  
  
"Or at least foster," Nikki murmurs. His fingers curl lightly around the old, copper key, carefully stowing it away in his pocket.  
  
"You'll get there," Donna gives him another gentle smile, before waving a wrinkled hand in his direction. "Now get out of here, you little punk. Don't keep the poor thing waiting."  
  
Nikki beams. "On it."  
  
A genuine smile spreads across his face as he swings the door to the back room open. The best part of the day, he thinks, is getting the chance to say goodnight. No messy cleanups, no feedings, no baths, no ointments to apply to itchy skin or cones to administer for patients fresh out of surgery. To say it was peaceful might have been a lie, maybe. _Therapeutic_, though... for him, there was nothing better than this.  
  
Nikki reaches another door with blue construction paper taped over the window and steels himself for the onslaught. He breathes, clutches the handle, and enters.  
  
His ears and eyes immediately flood with _dogs_; barking, yapping, jumping in their excitement to see him, _just_ him. He spots Missy, an old Pitbull mix, rouse from her mountain on blankets to join in on the fun, tail waggling so hard it might fly right off of her butt from the force.  
  
"Babies!" Nikki gushes because he can, because he's alone. The dogs surge in happiness, some spinning in circles, others pawing at their metal gates in an attempt to break free. They'd tackle him if they could, no doubt. The thought makes him smile wider, giggling uncontrollably.  
  
There was _nothing_ better than this.  
  
He makes his rounds through the pens, stopping every now and then to scritch behind a fuzzy ear. Cold noses and jubilant tongues brush and graze his hands and he takes certain care to greet _everyone_ he passes, including the shelter's own two-foot menace, a feisty little Chihuahua named Peanut. He squats down beside him.  
  
"You gonna behave for me tomorrow when I clip your nails?" Nikki asks with an edge to his voice. Peanut simply dances in place, licks his fingers when they slot through the gaps to comb through his short, prickly fur. The face of evil never looked so cute, he muses.  
  
The ruckus dies down once Nikki finally reaches the very last row of kennels, most of them empty save for just one. He fishes for the key in his pocket before retrieving it with a triumphant '_aha_!', reaching over to fumble with the padlock.  
  
"Where's my boy?" He asks, and like magic a round head of golden fuzz pops up from a plethora of big, plush blankets; ears perked and eyes alert. In two seconds flat the oversized cotton ball writhes and wiggles free from its bed, bounding over with the biggest, happiest puppy grin Nikki's ever seen. "Is that him? Is that my little man?"  
  
Whiskey yips, bouncing on his paws. He spins in a circle and laps incessantly at Nikki's knuckles, gnawing on a couple of them just because he can. It's a sharp pain, because Whiskey hasn't lost any baby teeth yet, but Nikki couldn't care less. He shuts the gate, turns to slide down into a cross-legged sit against the metal frame. Whiskey clambers into his lap almost immediately, propping his tiny paws up on his chest so that he could slobber all over his face with wet doggy kisses. "I know, I know, I'm sorry! It was a busy day, I couldn't stop to say hi. Tomorrow ain't looking so hot either... But I'll make it up to you, promise."  
  
Whiskey's head flops to the side, jowls snapping shut as he regards Nikki with a look of pure confusion. He laughs.  
  
"I'm thinking cookies. Bacon flavoured, of course, I know you don't like those bland ones Don keeps giving you. How's that sound? You want a cookie?" Whiskey just stares on, tail picking up speed the moment Nikki's pitch rises. "Yeah? You want some treats?" Whiskey barks again, prompting a few of his kennel mates to do the same. He's still confused, but his tail never stops flapping, and that's all that really matters anyway.  
  
Nikki spends another good twenty minutes horsing around with his four-legged friend, tumbling on the floor like an idiot and playing tug of war with his teething toys. Sharp canines graze his skin every now and then, but Nikki doesn't have the heart to scold him for rough housing; it was his fault regardless, and he was proud to wear the battle scars.  
  
"You stay out of trouble, alright?"  
  
Whiskey whines when Nikki eventually gets up to leave, and he simply leans down to rub a hand between the pup's ears, reassuring him that he'll be back in the morning.  
  
Snatching up Whiskey's kennel key, he bids his furry companion farewell and makes the slow trek back to the front office where his belongings and bus ticket sat; calling him home with the promise of TV reruns, Chinese take-out, and some much-needed rest.


	2. new face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on with the show!! \\(• •)/

"Any progress convincing that landlord of yours?" Axl asks on their shared lunch break, smoke slithering out from between his lips. They weren't allowed to smoke on the premises, not really, but Axl Rose never followed any form of rules or regulations, and nobody was ever brave enough to try and make him.  
  
He reaches down to snub out the rest of his cigarette with one hand, the other moving to pick up a half-melted Snickers bar and peel back the wrapper. Nikki wrinkles his nose, glancing over his own measly plate of food.  
  
"No," he sighs. "No, he made it pretty clear. Can't have any pets over fifteen pounds."  
  
"Well that's just fine," Axl says around a mouthful of chocolate, "Whiskey weighs, what, like... _Ten_?"  
  
Nikki blinks at him. "He's still a puppy, man. He's not even five months old..." At Axl's dispassionate shrug, his shoulders slump. "Puppies _grow_?"  
  
"Details, details," the redhead drawls in his deep southern twang, twisting his candy and eyeing it like a bug might manifest and crawl out from the center. He sets it down, nudging it towards Nikki with his fingertips. "If anything, you could probably hide him outside somewhere. Under a bridge maybe. I'd even come help you build the doghouse."  
  
Nikki fixes him with a look of feigned astonishment. "_Wow_," he breathes, and Axl pauses mid-chew to stare at him, "and here I thought you couldn't get any more braindead. You never cease to amaze me, Rosie."  
  
That earns him a punch in the gut, but it was a punch well-earned. Anything to dig a hole under Axl's cool exterior. He wheezes from the impact, but still finds it in himself to smile and push out a short laugh.  
  
"Fucker," Axl says without heat, completely calm despite the random act of violence. Nikki was sure he had enough cases of assault to lock Axl away for good at this point.  
  
"I'm not forcing a dog to live outside just because I want to keep him," Nikki continues, rubbing at his poor, aching guts, "I'll just... I dunno. I'll just let him get adopted into a better home. Household with kids, maybe. Nice family." He frowns, pushing at a half-eaten carrot with his plastic fork. "Shit sucks, but what can you do?"  
  
"I'd fuckin' throttle my landlord if I was in your shoes," Axl states plainly, planting his palms on the picnic table and pushing himself to his feet. Nikki glances up at him, and he rolls his shoulders in another shrug. "But I'm not, so... Yeah. What can ya do indeed." Nikki exhales sharply, but doesn't swat away the cancer stick Axl offers him a moment later. "Let's head back in, huh? I wanna finish up and go home early."  
  
/ / /  
  
Despite their constant inability to see eye-to-eye on... Well, _everything_, Nikki finds that he does enjoy Axl's presence at least somewhat; if he doesn't count the ungodly amount of bruises and cuts he's accumulated since meeting him. In the rare moments they aren't at eachother's throats throwing kicks and fists and pulling each other's hair, they make decent conversation over shared interests and hobbies, which wasnt much in retrospect; but Nikki doesn't have a lot of friends to compare him to, anyway.  
  
Axl was a runaway, hailing from Indiana with his captivating accent and appreciation for animals; the farm kind, especially. Nikki had half a mind to ask him if that meant he was a vegetarian, at which point he recieved a hard slug to the stomach (the first of many, unfortunately) and his ass torn into for '_improper assumptions_', or something along those lines. Wasn't the last time he made an improper assumption either, apparently, if the following gut busters he was given thereafter were anything to go by.  
  
Still, he liked him.  
  
In Axl's eyes they might not have been friends, but Nikki likes to think they are. They shared more common ground than the average person might, and it meant something to him. They sat in the same metaphorical boat, with their deadbeat dads and names they chose for themselves and their shared pipedream of making it big in the music industry some day.  
  
Nikki ponders the intricacies of their complicated relationship while he shuffles through applications at the front desk, organizing them by their submission dates. Tedious work, sure, but time was money; and the longer he spent dicking around at work, the more cash he'd have pocketed for next month's rent. Maybe if he bribed the landlord, he thinks. People did that, right?  
  
"Alright, I'm out. Later numbnuts," he hears Axl say as he strolls past, and he doesn't bother glancing up as he waves him off.  
  
"See ya."  
  
"Oh!" Axl exclaims, whirling on his heels. He points a finger in Nikki's direction, smirking subtly beneath his fringe of red hair. "Before I forget. You might want to go clean up the playpen when you get the chance. Peanut left you a little _present_."  
  
Nikki moans, glaring daggers at the grinning ginger. "He left that for _you_, you asshole!"  
  
"Nope! I saw it right as I was clocking out. That's _aaall_ yours." His smug expression is enough to spike Nikki's blood pressure, so he refocuses on the paperwork in his hands and tries to block him out.  
  
"Whatever, man. Get the fuck outta here already."  
  
Axl cackles, honest-to-God _cackles_ like some kind of Disney supervillain and pushes the door open to leave; bell tinkling to signal his departure.  
  
Its quiet after that. Nikki's not sure how long he spends wrapped up in his own thoughts sifting aimlessly through adoption papers, but apparently it was long enough for him to doze off with his chin in his palm because the same familar clink of the door bell has him startling awake, bleary eyes unfocused and lips crusted over with drool.  
  
He quickly wipes his face with the back of his hand and grimaces, hoping whoever just entered wasn't Donna here to catch him slacking off, or his debt collectors hunting him down because he still hasn't paid his water bill, or Axl coming back to start another brawl.  
  
_Why_ he'd do that doesn't make any sense, actually, but he digresses. Scary thoughts are scary thoughts.  
  
"Hi!" A chipper voice greets his ears, and Nikki nearly chokes on his own tongue. It wasn't Donna, or debt collectors. It wasn't Axl come to kick his shit in for the dozenth time this week, either, though he was sure he'd be able to fill that quota tomorrow. "Are you guys still open? I know it's pretty late but I _just_ got off stage. I tried to hurry."  
  
Nikki gapes, doing his best impression of a dying fish. "Uh- yeah, I guess we... are you-" he swallows, blinks a few times. "Sorry, aren't you the drummer from that one fuckin' band? _The Crew_ or whatever?"  
  
"_Mötley Crüe_?" The stranger laughs, smiling at his recognition. "The one and only, dude!"


End file.
